


Misplaced

by SnippetsRUs



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms
Genre: Cold, Damara - Freeform, Divination, Dwarves, F/M, Faerûn, Fan Characters, Farm Work, Gen, Giants, Goblins, Magic, Necromancers, Orcs, Rain, Runaway, SCRYING, Samhain, Separation, Suomi | Finnish, Unicorns, Vaasa, War, Wine, Witchcraft, Wizards, Zhengyi the Witch-King, earthling girl in fantasy world, protection spell, trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-10 17:38:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12916896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnippetsRUs/pseuds/SnippetsRUs
Summary: That moment when you get trapped in a magical fantasy world, where the elderly wizard chap is a jerk, the place where you were supposed to be safe gets invaded, the only good men are dwarves and no-one, anywhere, has ever thought to invent toilet paper. This girl is in a lot of trouble.





	1. Stranger

The muscles in her legs pumped with each running step. Her heart pounded with the force of a sledgehammer and sweat poured down her face, neck, chest and back. She moved her arms in rhythm with her legs, forever keeping her gaze forward. _To the north_ , he'd said. _Safety_ , he'd said. _Run_ , he'd said.

Taking the path through the dark, creepy forest wouldn't have been her first choice, let alone her second. Not even her tenth for that matter. For one thing, the darkness did funny things with her imagination, which she'd always had too much of, and secondly, the place was said to be haunted. Well, “said” in this place basically meant that it was.

For two years she'd lived among strange people whose lifestyle was ancient compared to her own. They spoke an odd language that she'd only recently got the grasp of, and that recent knowledge had informed her that her “family” had found some man to pawn her to. For a nice bag of gold coins, that was. Tuulikki had played along and convinced the guy to go outside only to steal some food and bolt out the back door. It was a desperate plan, but it was all she had. That and the horse she'd been in the process of stealing. The family wouldn't miss her, they had plenty.

Unfortunately Aimo, the farmer, had caught her and they'd scuffled. To his misfortune, all the back-breaking work he'd made her do for two years – washing laundry in the stream, general farm work and cooking, the latter two in absurdly old-fashioned ways – had helped her build a considerable amount of muscle compared to when they first met. She'd successfully knocked him out with the help of a wooden plank and a well-placed kick and been ready to leave when her would-be husband had stepped into the stables.

He'd looked confused when she'd said she didn't want to marry him, as if her having a say in the matter was completely out of the question.

“I've paid for you,” he'd said, and judging from the look in his eyes, he considered it a legitimate argument.

“I'm not cattle to be traded off,” she'd hissed at him. “Find yourself some other pretty face to serve as a milking cow.”

She'd expected him to be hurt, upset or even angry. Instead he'd smiled sheepishly. “No, if I were to force you along we'd only be miserable. Provided I'd even be able to force you.” He'd shot the unconscious form of Aimo a meaningful look. Then he'd paused and his eyes had travelled to the mare beside her. “Still, you shouldn't steal a horse. It holds the death penalty in Damara.”

“Damara” was a name that had been repeated to her over and over for the last two years and it still meant nothing to her. She'd gathered that it was the name of the country she was currently in. As if she was having her own Narnian adventure. Not that the Pevensies ever had to do hard labour, sleep in the barn and be treated like merchandise.

Tuulikki would give anything to go back home through some magical wardrobe or by falling into an enchanted well. It wasn't as if this world had a shortage of those, at least according to the occasional bard that stopped by to share a tale.

She had long ago accepted that she was in a magical world, disconnected from Finland, let alone the solar system that planet Earth belonged to. One look at the night sky had confirmed that she was in another part of the universe and the visiting dwarves that came for trade left her no choice but to accept the reality of her surroundings. The priests and priestesses here also had actual magic to show for, unlike the ones back home. She'd discovered this when a priestess of “Ilmater” – a name that sounded a lot like Ilmatar in Finnish mythology – had stopped by and healed the sick children at the farm. Tuulikki had been sick, too, and even felt death's pull on one occasion, but she'd been told to hide in the barn, where she belonged. She'd survived through stubbornness, fortitude and the aid of the local herbalist who didn't give a lick's spittle about what Aimo thought.

Of all the things that this place was in desperate need of – women's rights, a proper library with books on herb lore, basic schooling for children, proper roads and modern technology – toilet paper was the one thing that stood out the most. Desperation at having to use an outhouse of the worst quality she'd ever seen had caused Tuulikki to discover that she was naturally gifted at carpentry, as she'd managed to construct a wooden seat inside the shoddy excuse for a toilet with a lid that covered up the smell. This had circulated throughout the town and Aimo, taking advantage of her weak understanding of the language, claimed full credit. When she'd found out, she'd had a storming sea of anger inside her, but she'd held her head high and congratulated him in her halting Damaran.

“To Aimo! We will remember you when we shit.”

Her body had sported several bruises that night, but she'd succeeded in making him the laughing stock of the town all the same. Tuulikki had savoured her victory.

At night she'd dream of how she got to this place. She'd dream of Ansa, her sister, who had come with her only for the two to get separated. Tuulikki had met an ugly, green monster that she'd later learned was a goblin, and the memory of the creature's dark malice haunted her still. She'd somehow sent it tumbling to the ground with a spell, one that had caused the ground to get slimy and slippery.

It had to have been a spell. That was what Gandalf had called it. _Grease_.

Gandalf had been the one to find her, kill the goblins and then pawn her off on Aimo. Not that she thought his name actually was Gandalf, but he'd never introduced himself, and Dumbledore was for kids. Gandalf had seen Ansa get carried off, though he'd told her the ones who did so were “orcs”. That was another reason why she didn't call him Dumbledore.

She hadn't seen Gandalf since he'd dumped her on the farmers and she wasn't keen on meeting him again. When she'd asked him to look for Ansa, he'd flat out refused and told her to “consider herself lucky” he'd saved some nobody like her.

As such, the behaviour from the man who had sought to buy her was such a smack in the face with unexpected kindness that she'd been rendered speechless.

“Our ways are probably very different from yours,” he'd said, fidgeting like an insecure child as he spoke. “I know Aimo didn't treat you well. I thought it might be a way to help you, and you're so beautiful.” He'd stopped at this point and blushed profusely. Tuulikki didn't even know his name, but she'd immediately counted him as a friend.

“I appreciate the intent,” she'd said, “but I'm not cut out for this kind of life. Though I don't know what else I can do in this place with no family.”

He'd shrugged. “Many adventurers have started with less.”

She'd frowned. If there was one thing she didn't want to become, it was one of those meddling adventure types. The bards sung their tales from a place of admiration, but she saw them for what they were – the types of people driven by dangerous ideologies, greed and arrogance, causing more problems than they solved, and with no regard for the common folk they so often abused. This place had seen such folk on occasion and she'd always given them a wide berth.

“I suppose my proposal became the infamous final straw,” the young man had said, still smiling sheepishly as he'd held out a hand to take the reins. “I won't try to stop you, and I won't ask you to marry me. My old mother could use your help, however. You would have your own bed to sleep in and-”

She'd held up a hand to silence him. “I need to get out of here.”

“There's danger outside of Helmsdale,” he'd reminded her. She'd been well aware.

“There's danger inside of it as well,” she'd argued and indicated the unconscious Aimo with her head.

“I saw him attack you,” he'd said. “I would speak in your defence.”

“It won't matter,” she'd countered. “I'm better off leaving.” Even if people believed him, she was an outsider guilty of stealing. She'd be lucky if she escaped with a flogging.

“What do you hope to find?” he'd asked.

What indeed? Tuulikki hadn't been able to articulate it then, nor did she have a clue now as she ran north as fast as her legs could carry her. Stealing a horse didn't seem like such a bad idea, now, especially seeing as Aimo was dead. They all were. Her would-be fiancé as well. This had all happened when the army had rolled into town.

It was no army of Damara's king. Rather, it consisted of the same kind of creature that she'd been welcomed with upon arriving in this accursed world. Goblins, orcs and even a few giants had arrived, setting homes on fire and killing its residents. Leading the army were wizards, possessing magic similar to that of Gandalf, electrocuting peasants by pointing a finger and uttering a single word or choking them with a mere flick of the wrist. They rode in with confident postures and cocky smirks, and in witnessing the congregation from afar was Tuulikki, most ironically, reunited with her sister.

Ansa rode among the wizards, astride her own horse, dressed in the regalia of a necromancer. Tuulikki's legs had given out and she'd collapsed to the ground. She'd been lucky to already be hiding behind a bush, as Ansa's eyes had gone in her direction. Ansa's eyes, yes. Her sister had barely been recognisable. The physical traits were the same, but her eyes were dark and full of malice. For a moment the sensation was worse than what she'd felt from the goblin she'd met two years prior.

This also defeated any purpose Tuulikki would have for leaving. Her sister was _right there_ – dark and terrifying, to be sure, but with considerable resources at hand, including magic. Surely she was working for some warlord somewhere in the hopes of collecting the resources needed to find a way home. She was always the capable one. A strange sense of hope had risen within her, but then Ansa had cast a fiery ray spell at a child and laughed with delight as the poor infant burned to death. The sight of it was enough to send Tuulikki down a spiral of disgust, denial and horror.

Even if her sister wanted to go home, Tuulikki realised with a harsh, cruel bite to her hope that there was no way this new Ansa was compatible with modern, Finnish society. A knot had formed in her stomach and done battle with her wish for a family reunion. Ultimately the knot had won out and she'd turned away and run.


	2. Sisters

All the hard work had paid off – as did the fact that she wore leggings and a short dress rather than a long one – and she ran faster and longer than anything she'd accomplished back home. It was fortunate that the sun was still up, as that meant any undead haunting the forest would be hiding in some dark place. She briefly wondered how the goblins and orcs had been able to march on the town, then, as they shunned sunlight as much as the walking dead did. No doubt the wizards had done something to help the army along.

The forest was rather small, fortunately, and she made it to the other end with only one incident of a rabbit in a bush that had spooked her. She'd been well hidden from the army's view for the first stretch of travel. Still, she had to take a breather when she reached the other end, panting hard from the exertion of running non-stop at top speed. It was in this moment that she beheld the open plains of Damara for the first time.

It was late summer, so the glaciers hadn't yet returned. Therefore, the plains before her consisted of green grass as far as the eye could see. Tall grass, too. Easy to hide in, if she had the patience to crawl. On the horizon to the north-west towered tall mountains. It was as if Finland and Norway had come together and formed a country. A cruel display of what she'd been cut off from, yet a sweet similarity that softened the blow somewhat. Tuulikki could certainly think of worse places to be, a reminder that had kept her going for two years now. The overall living standards could stand to be improved, though.

She didn't know what was north of Helmsdale, but she remembered the dwarves coming from that direction. In her experience they were a surly and suspicious bunch, but it was nothing a bit of kindness on her part hadn't softened. Some of them might even remember her name – after all, she'd ended up engaged in a lengthy conversation with a dwarf woman once, and she'd been able to trade some of her woodcarvings for some coins from one of their merchants. Tuulikki remembered the everlasting patience of the dwarf woman during her wave upon wave of questions. Dwarves were considered to be “goodly” – a popular term in this world, she'd found – folk, too. It could be they'd take her in if she asked nicely. Not to mention she had important information to share about Helmsdale. No doubt the king of Damara would like to know that one of his towns had been invaded and his people slaughtered. Not that Tuulikki cared about rewards, but it might help improve her reputation. Without family, reputation became paramount if she was to find a place to live. She wasn't afraid of hard work, either, and she'd show the dwarves as much.

After making sure there were no enemy soldiers around the next bend, she proceeded to run at a neck-breaking speed across the open plains.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Don't forget the black candles,” Ansa commanded. Tuulikki rushed back to the chest inside their mother's room, neatly avoiding the swinging door as she went. She picked her way through the messy floor until she came to the only tidy part of the territory – where their mother kept her witchcraft supplies. Bookshelves, cabinets and chests all stood lined up against the sterile, white wall and only a photo of their grandmother hung there. Eliina had been her name and she was one of many women in their family, since ancient times, that had practised witchcraft. No other family members need apply, as they hadn't been the ones to pass along the gift of magic.

Yadda, yadda, yadda. Tuulikki didn't care about family history. She did care about her mother's tools, however, and after rummaging through the candle chest did she find what she and her sister had been looking for.

Black was for protection and banishment. It was the night of Samhain, when the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest and it was time to remember the dead, so it made sense. Still, their mother had never bothered with additional protection spells on this night, so Ansa's reasoning for using them still eluded her.

The altar room was fairly small, but it echoed with generations of witchcraft. It was, perhaps, the most powerful place in the house. Their mother's Book of Shadows lay on a pedestal, opened wide, with the spell's page glaring out at them. Long, dark curtains covered the windows, as they always had, and they created a spooky contrast to the white walls and wooden floor. One summer their mother had simply become possessed, for the lack of a better term, with the idea of sterile, white walls. Once, the altar room had been painted to reflect the starry night sky. Now, without the curtains, it looked like a doctor's office.

In the centre of the room stood the altar, decorated with plastic autumn flowers, paper pumpkins, candles lit for their departed loved ones, burning incense, a food offering and libation, and human skulls made from Styrofoam. According to their mother, their ancestors used real skulls. Ansa had asked why they no longer did so, and the answer had been something along the lines of “DNA tests at gravesites”.

Once all the candles were lit, Ansa turned off the one electric lamp that still worked and normally served as the room's only light source. She gave her little sister a disapproving look when she noticed what Tuulikki was wearing.

“Unicorns again?”

Tuulikki shrugged. “It's my best sweater.”

Ansa shook her head. “You're such a kid.”

“Duh, I'm twelve,” Tuulikki shot back and stuck her tongue out to prove her point. In response, Ansa gripped her sister's cheeks with one hand and squeezed until Tuulikki looked like a confused fish.

“Shtof'at!” Tuulikki yelled and reached up to grab Ansa's hand. Ansa merely grinned and let go before her hand could be subjected to sharp-clawed retaliation. Tuulikki cupped her cheeks and rubbed them tenderly. “That stuff hurts.”

“Aw, poor Tuulikki,” Ansa mocked with a smirk. Tuulikki glared in response. “Fine, fine, I won't do it again, but don't stick your tongue out at me, either.”

A moment's silence passed between the girls in which they simply stared at each other. “Fine,” Tuulikki said in the end and the pair got back to business.

Ansa was to call upon the guardians of fire and water, whereas it was Tuulikki's job to call upon earth and air. They lit the respective candles of those elements as they went. A fireman might have had a thing or two to say about fire hazards, if not for the fact that the girls had been trained in this since they were little. Nothing caught on fire except candle wicks and when Ansa had put down the obsidian stones in a circular pattern around them were they ready to begin.

It was a simple chant, one invoking Hekate's epithet of Apotropaia, the one who averted danger and harm. Tuulikki focused her will on the ritual, though she'd never really connected with Hekate, or any other deity for that matter. Not even the Finnish ones. Ansa seemed to have no trouble, at least according to her own recounting of meditations and rituals. She was better at divination, too. Basically, Ansa was better at everything.

Tuulikki knew it wouldn't do to sit there and feel jealous, however, and put her thoughts aside so she could maintain her focus. Once the invocation was over, they stated their request for protection and visualised a circle of energy all around the house. Well, at least Tuulikki visualised the house. She didn't know what Ansa had in mind.

When finished and having said their farewells to Hekate they'd gone to bed. The last thing Tuulikki remembered before falling asleep was the sight of her Android phone on her bedside table.

Next thing she knew, she was in Damara.

 

 

* * *

 

 

One-hundred-and-thirteen survivors out of five hundred. It was more than she'd expected and less than what Zhengyi had predicted. Still, the invasion had been a success and they had their base of operation from which they could operate. Already the giants had set to work building a stone wall and their new human slaves had set to work repairing the wooden palisade. Some of the survivors were women and children, the former of which the orcs were arguing about who got to rape first, and the latter of which they argued about who got to eat first. Ansa settled the matter by slaying the orcs arguing with a particularly nasty – and showy – necromantic spell.

“What remains of these humans will be our labour force,” she reminded them, her voice authoritative and her glare enough to have the remaining orcs back down. “His Highness King Zhengyi has entrusted me with these operations. Any orc that pulls his pants down on a woman without her expressed permission will lose what he has between his legs.” The remaining necromancers – all men – stepped up next to or behind her, which caused even the strongest orc warrior to hesitate in his steps. “As for the children, we need future labourers. If you eat them now, we will not have any to work for us later.”

“We can just make more,” one orc said and sent one of the Damaran women a lecherous grin. She glared right back.

Ansa slew him with a spell. “We will not reduce those with proud orc blood in their veins to do mere menial labour,” she snarled at any would-be attackers and that had them lower their weapons in acceptance and no small amount of pride rather than fear. “Let these humans mate with each other and create more labourers for us. Your own women will come down from the mountains soon enough, along with your children.”

The orcs backed down and any goblin that tried to get to the women and children was promptly slain by said orcs. That was the beauty of monsters – if one group couldn't have something, then any other surely wouldn't either. Not that this agreement would last long, as orcs were chaotic creatures driven by their whims, but it would last long enough for the orcs' families to get here. Ansa had made an agreement with the orc wives to keep their sons and husbands in check as best they could, and the giants would pick up the slack.

“You're a harsh taskmistress,” Ilari, Zhengyi's youngest, most handsome and most talented necromancer whispered in her ear as soon as the monsters and remaining necromancers were out of earshot. His hot breath hit a familiar spot – no doubt intentional on his part – and Ansa felt her form tremble with both arousal and the aftermath of battle. Or, as was most appropriate in this case, slaughter.

“His Highness King Zhengyi doesn't want a blooming population in Helmsdale,” she explained coldly despite her body doing funny things. “He let me know that in no way, shape or form are any of our forces to reproduce with these people.”

He came up beside her and shot her an unamused look. “Not even we necromancers?”

“Not even we necromancers,” she echoed and finally met his gaze directly.

His look remained in place for another second before it broke into a grin. “A good thing I have you, then.”

Ansa finally allowed herself a smile, albeit a coy one. “I'll see you tonight, then.” Then she moved on, ignoring the glares of the remaining necromancers. Their partners would arrive soon, too, and everyone would enjoy themselves tonight. “Send some of the locals to my office, however. I have some conversations to make.” She stepped up to the mayor’s house – now vacant – and allowed the orcs to drag the bodies of the mayor and his family away. His servants were still alive, something she was pleased to see. “Do set to work cleaning this place. There’s no sense in letting this place go to the dogs.” She thought to dismiss them with a wave of her hand before adding. “If you betray me, attack my person or my allies or attempt to aid my enemies in any way, I will kill you and have your corpses feast on your friends and family members, after which I’ll use you as fodder in the army.” She sent them a look that brooked no argument. They looked horrified, but didn’t object. Just how she preferred people.

The house itself was the largest in town, after the town hall, of course, and extravagantly decorated for such a small-town mayor. Long, heavy curtains in dark blue velvet were draped over the windows, with golden rope keeping them in place. The floor was a forgiving, soft, bright wood which name she didn’t care about and the walls were a lovely wallpaper of off-white with white flowers. Door frames, the staircases and upstairs banister were all made of brown wood and so was most of the furniture. A chandelier hung from the pale, chequered ceiling, although the candles had all been blown out. She cast a few spells of illumination, however, and soon enough the foyer was lit up with pale, heatless flames that danced where the candle flames would normally burn.

On the floor was a beautiful rug in silver and blue and she found similar colour themes as she explored the house. _Her_ colours. It was as Zhengyi had said – this house was basically made for her.

After threatening the chef into cooking up a decent meal and ensuring he wouldn’t poison it, she helped herself to some wine from the cellar and got settled in what looked like the study. Shuffling feet could be heard not long after and, after she stepped back into the foyer to show where she was, the orc warriors pushed a couple of farmers towards her. Once settled in the mayor’s armchair, she motioned for the men to take a seat. They hesitated only to be shoved into the chairs by the orcs.

“You will find your lives to be much easier if you simply obey.” She folded her hands and regarded each of them in turn. “Now then, we have some business to take care of. First thing first will be funeral rites for your dead loved ones.”

One of the farmers, a young boy, spoke up. “Funeral rites? I thought you necromancers-“

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “There’s little value in using farmers to fight, and if we were to raise them for farm work, they’d only end up feeding off the rest of you.”

“That’s fine and all,” the other farmer, a grown man, interjected, “but I won’t so soon forget that you murdered my little girl, nor will I ever forgive it.” The anger was clear on his face and in his trembling hands.

Ansa shot him a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, the second she caught my colleague’s eye, she had a far worse fate than death in store for her.”

“Then why kill her in such a gruesome manner?” he demanded, angrier rather than calm. One orc reached for him, but she stopped the warrior with a raise of her hand.

“The esteemed archmage Jalo Korhonen doesn’t take pleasure in the company of women,” she began. “Personally, I find his... _preference_ for little girls distasteful.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” the man argued stubbornly.

She shot the orc behind him a meaningful look. Before the man could object, he was hoisted up in the air and left to dangle, slowly choking away at his own scarf. The young boy looked around, shocked and horrified, but stayed in his seat nevertheless.

“Patience is a virtue, my good man,” she told the man dangling. “Interrupt me again, and you lose your tongue. Is that clear?”

A barely perceptible nod was the response. She nodded at the orc who let him fall back into his seat. He coughed and sputtered, but didn’t object further.

Once the worst of his coughs had settled down, she spoke. “Jalo is a necromancer. If I had killed your daughter with means that left her face and body intact, he’d either fuck the corpse or raise her as an undead and fuck her.”

“You laughed rather loudly as she burned to death, though,” the younger man interjected, his suspicion and distrust obvious.

“Because of the look on Jalo’s face.” She didn’t miss a beat. “Suffice it to say I have many good reasons to sabotage his perversions.” She shot them a meaningful look and that, effectively, seemed to shut them up. Ansa leaned back in her seat. “I understand that funeral rites are usually seen to by clerics of Ilmater. His Highness, King Zhengyi, however, doesn’t tolerate their religion and has outlawed it within his organisation. As such, the best I can offer you is a large pyre upon which to burn their bodies.”

“They wouldn’t be dead if your army hadn’t killed them,” the young man argued.

She shrugged. “Military invasions tend to do that. Would you rather we asked nicely first?” Those last words were spoken with a sly smile. The orcs chuckled.

“I’d rather you hadn’t invaded,” he shot back. “I’d rather you’d left us alone.”

“No can do.” She shook her head. “This place holds an important strategic position. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.” She leaned forward again, this time with a friendly smile. “That doesn’t mean we can’t get along, though.”

The older man had regained his voice, it seemed, as he was the next to speak. “With orcs and goblins? And giants that will eat us?”

She shrugged. “You have enough livestock to go around. It’s butcher’s season soon, isn’t it?” She grinned. “Next year we’ll increase the number of sheep, pigs, chickens and cows, of course. However, none of the giants here will eat you. They don’t constantly hunger, like trolls.”

“We won’t be seeing them here as well, will we?” the young man asked, a worried look on her face.

Ansa shot the orcs a meaningful look. “No, that’s something we can all agree that we don’t want.” The farmers looked behind them and saw the orcs nod in agreement. “But now that the first matter is settled, I conclude from your lack of objections, there is the matter of a personal one. I understand that a young girl came to live here for two years, working for a farmer named Aimo. Her name is Tuulikki, and she can easily be spotted among the people living here. Yet, I can’t seem to find her, neither among the dead or the living. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Why?” the young man asked. “What is she to you?”

“My sister,” she replied in no uncertain terms. “We were separated two years ago and I’ve tried to find her ever since. And before you ask, no, she has no role in the invasion of this town. I’m simply looking for personal reasons.”

“Ensio went to buy her today,” the youngest farmer began. Ansa’s eyebrow moved up to the middle of her brow and she found herself most unimpressed.

“You mean you treated my sister as a slave?” She openly glared at them. The orcs moved their hands closer to their weapons, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to inflict pain. The young man’s eyes widened in terror. “No, no! Well, Aimo did, he had a nasty streak in him and would steal whatever money she’d earned through trade with the dwarves. Ensio hoped to free her from him.”

“Let me guess,” she sneered, feeling more than a little disgusted with these people, “in exchange for sexual favours.”

“It was only right for Ensio to get a wife in return,” the older farmer argued and got slapped in the back of his head for the effort.

“Consider such activities illegal from here on out.” She rose to her full height. “I didn’t let the orcs treat the women here like cattle, nor will I allow you to do so. Anyone attempting to... _buy_ a wife in this place will face the same punishment of castration, is that clear?”

The men looked appalled and terrified, but they didn’t argue. Behind them, the orcs grinned viciously. If there was one thing she’d noticed about orcs, it was that they appreciated her consistency almost as much as they did her brutality. “It’s clear,” the eldest of the farmers said and the young man was quick to follow with an exact repetition.

“I take it, then, that you have no more clues to my sister’s whereabouts than I do,” she continued after sitting back down.

The men shook their heads.

“For the record, Tuulikki was well-liked here,” the young man cut in. “Despite Aimo’s abuse, she was good at humiliating him in ways where he couldn’t fight back. She made us laugh at his expense quite a lot.”

“Of course she did,” Ansa agreed. She knew her sister better than anyone. Still, it irked her how she’d been treated. “Now get back to work. We will discuss the maintenance of the infrastructure tomorrow, after breakfast. Have everyone show up in the town hall or there will be more deaths.”

“I don’t think the farmers here will put up with constant threats, even with such a considerable army at your command,” the grown man pointed out.

“Threat?” She shot the man a surprised look. “No, I’m stating the facts. If we let the farm work fail now, we will all starve come winter.” She paused. “Unless I let the army eat you.” She smirked. “However, that would be contradictory to _all_ our interests, so instead, let’s do our best with what we have.” Her smirk turned into a charming smile. The men shot her confused looks, but nodded regardless. She waved them out. The orcs grabbed them and pulled them along before they could get out of the chairs on their own.

Ansa set to work writing her report to Zhengyi. Everything had gone according to his plans, except for the number of dead. She hadn’t been able to locate Tuulikki, however, much to her chagrin. That was only a temporary problem, she realised, as Ilari stepped into her office much earlier than planned. He’d been able to scry her sister’s location once and would no doubt succeed again. She got out of her seat and let him embrace her before whispering the news of her missing sister into his ear and telling him what she needed him to do. He sighed at the prospect of a delayed coupling between them, but agreed nevertheless. Finding Tuulikki was, after all, of the utmost importance to Ansa.

After all, how else would she get rid of her?


	3. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're so homesick your dream gets filled with fantasy references. But how fantastic are they in a world where unicorns are allegedly real?

Tuulikki had immediately started screaming. How could she not? Going to bed in her home and waking up in a dark forest somewhere was _not_ normal. It wasn’t fun, exciting or even remotely interesting. If she was to ever describe the experience to someone, the words she’d use would be more along the lines of “terrifying”, “traumatising” and “unsettling”. Her immediate thought wasn’t to run off somewhere in search of Legolas or Glorfindel, rather it was “danger, danger, you’re far from home” and the sound of an alarm playing inside her inner mind theatre. She nearly wet herself as full-fledged panic took hold and she looked about in denial and horror.

Ansa’s face appeared in front of her and her hand came to cover her mouth. The sight of her older sister, much calmer, helped her settle down, and her screaming stopped almost immediately. “Calm down, Tuulikki,” she ordered, albeit gently. “We’re not in danger.” She removed her hand a while later and Tuulikki took deep breaths to steady herself.

“How do you know that? We might die.” She felt a knot form in her stomach despite Ansa’s words. The trees were tall, pine like back in Finland, and a pale, crescent moon shone down upon them. Tuulikki’s knot get worse when she saw constellations she didn’t recognise. “Where are we?”

“We’re not going to die,” Ansa replied. “We’re in Vaasa.”

“What are we doing on the west coast of Finland?” the youngest asked as she got up on her feet.

“Vaasa the country,” Ansa corrected her. Tuulikki felt mystified and it must have shown on her face, because Ansa continued. “Grandmother came here when she was young. She learned a lot of magic here, magic that she passed onto us.”

“Grandmother never taught me anything,” Tuulikki argued.

“Me, then,” Ansa corrected herself.

“Alright.” Tuulikki could accept that their eccentric and powerful grandmother had been to strange and far-off places. “That doesn’t explain why we’re here, though.”

“ _I’m_ here to fulfil my duty,” Ansa explained calmly. Her emphasis on herself worried Tuulikki in more ways than one. “ _You_ shouldn’t be here at all.” There was a moment of awkward silence between the two. “Just who did you cast the protection spell on, anyway?”

“The house,” Tuulikki replied honestly. It was what they always did when they cast protective spells, just as their mother had taught them.

Ansa groaned and shot her a despairing look. “Tuulikki, I told you the spell was for _me_! Now you’ve gone and got yourself involved in something you don’t understand and half-assed the magic that was supposed to keep me _safe_!”

“No, you didn’t,” Tuulikki argued. She distinctly remembered Ansa telling her about a protection spell, and while the chant specified the person in question, the visualisation could also include the room, the building or even the country. “You didn’t tell me it was just for you.”

Ansa opened her mouth to speak, but an unnatural howl spread across the area and rendered her words silent even as her lips moved. The sound was reminiscent of a dog’s howl, but it rang in Tuulikki’s ears long after it passed, clutched at her heartstrings and sent chills down her spine. That she wore only pyjamas and no socks didn’t help.

The baying of hounds was the warning part of the spell. That meant people with harmful intentions towards them was nearby. Tuulikki tried to call out to Ansa that they had to get somewhere safe, but her own voice had been choked by the howl and her sister had her gaze elsewhere. A wave of trepidation came over her next and she examined the area to see if she could locate a path that would take them out of the forest. They might be able to find a shack, a house, a farm or even a small town.

A second howl sounded, and this time it came with a sense of urgency. Tuulikki grabbed Ansa by the arm and caused her to spin around, anger and panic written in her eyes. They tried speaking to each other, but no sound came this time either. Deciding on a different tactic, Tuulikki pointed at each of them in turn and used her index and middle finger to create a running motion, effectively indicating that they should leave this place. Ansa nodded and took the lead, stepping up towards a pair of trees through which snaked a path that Tuulikki hadn’t seen earlier. Holding hands, they shared one look before running through the opening.

 

* * *

 

Perhaps running hadn’t been such a good idea after all, Tuulikki though to herself several hours later and still with no dwarven stronghold in sight. Twilight had come, her legs ached and her steps were heavy and slow. The drop in temperature bit into her skin and seeped into her bones, and if the dark, rumbling menace in the sky was anything to go by, it would no doubt rain soon. There was a small cluster of trees nearby that offered enough cover from the rain, though she had no blanket or cloak with which to stay warm. She didn’t dare start a fire, either – not that there was any firewood around anyway, apart from some thin sticks lying scattered about under the few trees that were there. No, even if she could get a spark burning, the open plains all around her was her enemy – the light would give her position away to any scouts from her sister’s army.

Tuulikki sat down at the base of the cluster, finding herself a neat spot among the roots that she could nestle herself into. The trees were large, she noticed, even as far as trees went, and the foliage dense enough to keep out the worst of the rain. She unwrapped some of her food and helped herself to her own, home-baked olive oil herb bread, some cheese and Aimo’s beef jerky. Her stomach growled loudly with hunger and she downed some of Aimo’s most expensive red wine just to keep warm. No fancy glass to be had, though, she drank straight from the bottle. The content did indeed increase her body heat, although she took care not to drink more than her initial sip. Getting drunk all alone in the middle of the road to Ironspur, while it rained, was nothing short of suicidal. After all, she might become overly sentimental and full of regret and go back, or worse, start to wander off somewhere only to get eaten by a monster.

She suddenly grew very cold despite the earlier wine. What if a monster or hungry, wild beast came? Things had grown increasingly less safe during the two years that she’d slaved away in Helmsdale. What if Ansa’s army had drawn more powerful predators this way? The growing night was silent, but she knew from many a bard tale that some monsters hunted quietly. She wrapped her food back up and stoppered the wine bottle, just to keep the smells to a minimum. Not that her own smell wouldn’t attract someone at some point, but it was usually the scent of blood that drew the human-eating kind. She hugged her knees and reminded herself over and over that, so long as she didn’t bleed, she’d be fine. Besides, the rain would disrupt any keen animal noses.

This was far from a comfortable bed, even compared to the haystack that she’d slept in back at Aimo’s farm, but the tree trunk provided sturdy support and the moss and grass was soft enough for her to sit on. Tuulikki counted her blessings and doing so helped her calm down. There was no denying that she felt more than a little foolish, however.

Tuulikki considered her options. If she went back she might find shelter with Ansa, but after seeing what her sister was capable of, she didn’t feel terribly optimistic. Her toes tingled from the alcohol and her cheeks were warm, but that wouldn’t last forever. She had a collection of scarves with her, but she needed that to conceal the smell of food. Perhaps she would reach Ironspur tomorrow, but how long would she survive until then?

The people of Damara were annoyingly religious, treating gods as if they were as real as cats and trees. In fact, her disbelief was far more of an anomaly, and while she’d managed to dig up Helmsdale’s one and only atheist, even he hadn’t denied the existence of gods. In fact, he seemed to not worship simply out of stubborn pride. Every year, after planting the seeds, Aimo and his family had gone down on their knees and prayed to someone named “Chawn- TEE-ah”, forcing Tuulikki to do the same.

It wasn’t as if she was unused to the concept of deities. Witchcraft included them quite a bit, in fact. No, the problem was that she’d never been able to connect with one. Her mother had insisted it was pride, perhaps the same pride as Helmsdale’s atheist. Tuulikki stubbornly tried to do everything by herself, after all, and would always tell others the importance of independence. Or “lord it over”, as Ansa put it. Perhaps there was some truth to that. Living a modern life had awoken a single, but persistent question in Tuulikki’s mind that she had yet to find the answer two – what did they need gods for? Healing? They had doctors, modern medicine and scientific research to find new and better ways to improve people’s health. Salvation? What salvation was there to be had from worlds that no-one could prove existed? Morals and ethics? They were learned by growing up in a loving, supporting family with responsible parents and through healthy, social interactions. Controlling the natural world? That was just pompous.

The answer to that original question was more obvious in Damara, where clerics channelled divine energy to heal people – or so they claimed. Tuulikki could accept this, though she had yet to see evidence that this magic came from entities as powerful as “gods”. Magical healing existed, though, that much was obvious.

Perhaps she could give it a try and see for herself? A visiting druid had given her a wooden necklace with a unicorn and a crescent moon carved into it after she’d asked him about said mythical creature. He’d assured her that unicorns really _did_ exist and that they followed a goddess named “luh-RUE”. Or at least he did. Tuulikki looked at that necklace now and briefly pondered the point in saying a prayer to this alleged deity.

Her current situation dictated there was nothing to lose either way. Gods usually wanted an offering, though. She unwrapped her food, set some of it aside and then wrapped the rest back up before saying her prayer.

It was an obvious thing she asked for – aid to survive the night, protection from harm and guidance on her path to Ironspur – and she poured some of her wine at the base of the tree as an additional offering. She waited, but her surroundings remained dark, wet and scary. Letting out a snort at her own silly hope, she let fatigue finally claim her and her eyes closed shut.

 

* * *

 

“...so it seems she did indeed leave Helmsdale behind,” Ilari concluded after consulting his cards. “However, my cards offer no clarity into her current whereabouts, only that she’s cold, wet and miserable.”

“No wonder,” Ansa said and rolled her eyes. They were in her newly acquired study, having set up everything they needed for their spellcasting activities. The rain had reached Helmsdale only a few minutes ago, so it went without saying that her sister was caught up in it if she hadn’t found shelter yet. “She’s alive, however, and unless she teleported to another part of the Realms, which I doubt she has the power to do, she’s probably still somewhere in Damara. I reckon north of us, considering where the rain came from.”

“Well deducted,” he complimented her and she flashed him a smile. “Shall we send the orcs up north to track her?”

She shook her head. “It’s too large of an area. See if you can scry her location first.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” he remarked and stepped up to the watery scrying mirror they’d set in place. Ansa helped herself to some wine as she waited. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as was standard for such spells, and his blue eyes stared unrelentingly into the water below him. She always thought he was at his most handsome this way, focused and brimming with power. It was a good thing she hadn’t _completely_ exhausted him earlier and they’d both had time to rest.

His furrowed brow soon became confusion, however. The water began to steam, a clear sign of danger to the one attempting the divination. He stubbornly clung to the mirror a bit longer, but then he pulled away, nearly tripped over his feet in the process and just barely regained his footing before he sat down in the room’s only armchair. His face was as pale as her bedsheets and he panted from the exertion.

Ansa was by his side immediately, a _calm emotions_ spell spilling forth from her lips and fingers and into his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, shuddered briefly as if a gust of wind had struck him and then opened them to display a calm look and rosy complexion. She stroked his cheek gently for added effect, as she’d found that no spell was ever a good replacement for mundane compassion. He looked distressed despite how both the enchantment and her ministrations should soothe him, however.

“I couldn’t find her,” he finally admitted after a small eternity of silence. “I looked north but couldn’t get even a few miles north of Helmsdale. Something or someone is protecting her from my scrying efforts.”

Ansa was lost in her own thoughts before he could even finish his last line. So, it had begun, as Zhengyi had prophesized. Tuulikki escaping the army, fleeing north, being hidden from view, and then... A knot formed in Ansa’s stomach.

“Even though she was protected, I did manage to glimpse a river,” Ilari cut in, effectively interrupting her thoughts. “Only the Goliad River moves north so close to Helmsdale.”

“I suppose it’s unlikely she made it all the way to the Galena Snake,” Ansa mused, naming a river to the east that was separated from the Goliad by a giant glacier during the winter season. “She’s on her way to Ironspur?”

He shrugged. “Unless she plans to go east and trek across a seemingly endless path of rolling hills that’s home to all manner of dangerous creatures or go west and attempt to climb the Galena mountains.”

Ansa started pacing. “We don’t have authorisation to present our demands to the dwarves yet.”

“But we hold their biggest source of food hostage,” he reminded her. “If they wish to trade with us, they’ll have to hand Tuulikki over.”

“Dwarves?” She scoffed at him. “You underestimate their stubbornness.”

“Why?” He looked genuinely confused. “They may have met your sister during the two years she was here, but they don’t owe her anything. Why put their entire clan at risk for the sake of one human?”

“We’re necromancers,” she reminded him. “They don’t care for our magic. Not to mention we work with orcs, goblins and giants, all of whom are ancient enemies of the dwarves.”

“The threat of starvation will persuade anyone,” he argued, “no matter how obstinate.”

“Still, if I do this, I will use our advantageous position for personal reasons,” she countered. “It was something His Highness strictly forbid me from doing.”

“Preventing your undoing by the hands of your own sister is hardly merely personal,” he parried and stepped up to her. His large, warm hands came to rest on her shoulders, but they did nothing to ease her concerns. “You’re a loyal servant of King Zhengyi and a high-ranking official in his army. Your skills, apart from your magic, are quite indispensable. Dealing with any potential threats is a way to ensure success, not just for yourself but for him as well.”

“If I threaten the dwarves with starvation on behalf of my own, petty problems,” she began, “it will immediately sour our relationship with them to the point where they will have no problem picking up arms against us should the opportunity present itself. Not to mention His Highness will see through what justifications I attempt to come up with. He always does.” She involuntarily shuddered at the thought. Zhengyi had displayed more than once how he dealt with insubordination. It wasn’t a tempting prospect. She reached up, grabbed her lover’s hands and brought them away from her shoulders and down between them. “He wishes to _control_ this region, not start a civil war. I’m hardly the only necromancer here, and we both know the others vie for my position.”

“But not mine,” he said with a smile. Ansa felt confused, at first, followed up by realisation that quickly turned into alarm.

“You just failed to scry her location,” she reminded him. “Something is protecting her already, and there’s no telling what she’s capable of.”

He sent her a sceptical look. “Working on a farm for the past two years? I’m sure she’s built some muscle since then, but that’s no trouble for me.”

She matched his scepticism with her own. “Still, you should at least rest up and replenish your spells before you head out. You’re such a glutton when it comes to casting and you’re no sorcerer.”

“I take it that means you won’t try to stop me?” He shot her a boyish grin.

She shook her head. “Just remember to bring her in alive. Unharmed. No life energy drained.”

He pouted. “She’s young and full of energy. That might be more than I can handle.”

First, she felt annoyed with him for being so flimsy, but she settled instead for a nonchalant shrug. “In that case, feel free to stay and help me with the paperwork.”

His arms reached up quicker than a mind flayer could stun a person with their mind, shot a look at the grandfather clock lined up against the wall and let out a yawn that would have convinced anyone other than her. “Well, would you look at the time! I should go to bed if I hope to catch up to Tuulikki tomorrow.” Then he sauntered out of the room at a leisurely pace, all hesitation gone from his steps. “I’ll borrow some of the things His Majesty brought with us, if it’s no trouble. No harm in being prepared.” Then he disappeared out the door, his retreating steps going in the direction of the bedroom.

Ansa did what she always did when he behaved this way – rolled her eyes and shook her head.

 

* * *

 

Tuulikki trembled uncontrollably and her teeth clattered. She’d managed to reach a state somewhere between asleep and awake, but she doubted she was going to get much rest. Lying on the moss was comfortable enough, especially for one who’d slept in nothing but hay for two years, but the constant cold made it impossible for her to relax long enough to slip off into a deeper state. At this rate, she’d need an hour-long aromatherapy session on top of a good night’s sleep. She briefly wondered if the clerics of Ilmater were good at such things, and would the dwarves agree to let them into their home?

Soon she slipped off into a daydream where she argued her case before the dwarves. Their king, Thorin Oakenshield, stubbornly refused to listen. She argued some more, which resulted in Thorin yelling at her. A unicorn’s horn then grew on his forehead and he started snorting and grunting like a horse. Next thing she knew she was a baby in her mother’s arms and her favourite lullaby song rang in her mind, almost as if the woman’s voice contained a surround sound effect. It came with the smell of rose and jasmine, the warmth of lit candles and a steady heartbeat against her cheek, and it made Tuulikki feel terribly nostalgic and homesick. An almost violent tremble went through her entire body and she choked on a sob at one point. Tears began to involuntarily make their way down her cheeks.

Had she been awake, she might have noticed that she was no longer cold. The thought of that tried to grab at her mind, but it slipped away in favour of Fili and Kili chasing after a wild boar whose goal was to eat the obscenely large eyebrows of World of Warcraft elves. A wizard that looked like an old Harry Potter in McGonagall’s clothes transformed the eyebrows into ferocious polar bears that terrified the boar and turned Fili and Kili into orcs. They then proceeded to eat McPottergall after which they turned to face her. The orcs then mounted the bears and rode around in full gallop while singing “Heal the world” by Michael Jackson. She only barely noticed that her tears had dried up, her body had calmed down and that she breathed normally once more.

Tuulikki slipped into darkness shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lullaby that inspired this chapter, go to Youtube and search for "The Witch's Daughter" by Ashley Serena.


End file.
